


Revisited

by spikes_heart



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-08 09:12:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17978507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikes_heart/pseuds/spikes_heart
Summary: Third story in my Innocence!verse, following Innocence Found and Reclamation. Bits of this and that, no plot necessarily, but that might change over time.





	1. Revisited

**Revisited**

**Two years since we've last peeked in on the gang**

The sound of something scratching at the front door roused Giles from a lazy, post-dinner cuddle.

"What's the matter, Rupert?" Tara yawned, gently stretching her back to alleviate the kinks from falling asleep on the couch in her husband’s arms.

"Shhhh," he whispered, standing still. "Listen… there! There it is again," he said. "Do you hear it? A sort of scratching noise?"

Fully awake now, Tara concentrated but could hear nothing out of the ordinary until…

**thump** followed by low-pitched arguing of some sort.

"Now _that_ I heard." She smiled, stretching once again before easing herself up from the sofa. "I'm not too worried… my wards are still in place. Nothing with intent to harm can enter."

"For which I'm extremely grateful, love. However, I think it's best if you stay here while I see what's making all the commotion."

Tara fixed him with a "silly man" roll of her eyes, but humored him by staying well out of reach of the threshold.

Giles grabbed the loaded crossbow he kept behind his desk and crept stealthily to the door, trying to listen for an opportunity to catch whatever was trying to break in unawares.

_"Hold still! I'm almost there!"_

_"Ouch… your toenails are scratching my neck."_

_"Don't be such a baby!"_

"Not exactly fear-inducing," he murmured. "Nevertheless…" He pulled the door open, aimed the crossbow in a well-practiced move, and was startled when two very familiar children fell at his feet.

"S'prise!" shouted Bitty-Buffy, scrambling up from the floor. "Bet you didn't know it was us."

Bitty-Spike said nothing, but dipped his head, smiling shyly.

Giles clutched at his chest like a maiden aunt. "N-no, not at all. What a surprise indeed, children. Do come in," he said, quickly putting the weapon back in its usual place and away from curious, little hands.

Tara met them at the door, enjoying their hugs. “Where are the rest of your clothes?” she asked, noting each one wore an over-sized shirt and nothing else… not even shoes.

“Outside,” Buffy said, pointing to the entrance-way.

When Tara opened the door, sure enough… halfway down the block, in the middle of the sidewalk, was a pile of clothing. “Rupert, would you please bring their clothes inside? Sooner or later they’re going to need them again.”

“Of course, my dear,” Giles said, and walked out the door to retrieve them.

Buffy stared at Tara, as if trying to figure something out. Her little brow furrowed, looking as if she were deep in thought.

Noticing the girl’s discomfort, Tara couldn’t help being curious as to the continuity of events in their little minds. “What do you remember from the last time you were here?” she asked.

“She got her arm hurt,” Spike chipped in. “I remember it was all burned an’ she was crying.”

Buffy nodded in agreement. “And you were big! But I could still tell it was you in there,” she said, smiling proudly. “A big bampire with pretty blue eyes.”

Spike ducked his head. Had he been human, his face would have burned brightly with a deep pink blush.

“Anything else?” Tara asked, wondering just how they would take the news of time passed.

Both children shook their heads.

Just then, the door opened and Giles walked back in with their grownup clothes. “How are you two feeling? Are you hungry? Tired? Hurt?” he asked tentatively, running his hands perfunctorily over both, making sure they weren’t wounded in any way. “What happened to you?”

“Hush, Rupert. You’re upsetting the children,” Tara said, gently ushering Buffy and Spike towards the couch. Why don’t you two sit while we both go to the kitchen and rustle up a snack? How do cookies and cold milk sound?”

Buffy and Spike both jumped off the couch at the same time and headed towards the table with shouts of “me, me!”

“I’m sorry we don’t have any of your special juice,” Giles said to Spike as he climbed onto the chair.

“I know you mean blood, Sir,” the little vampire said. “I remember when my Grandpa Angel fed me his.” Spike looked at Giles with reproach in his eyes. “M’not a baby. I’m a big boy vampire,” he insisted, his gameface sliding into place for a few moments before fading away again.

“I’m sorry, Spike. I should have realized. If you’re okay for the evening, I can go to the butcher in the morning.”

“S’okay, I’m not really hungry anyway,” Spike replied. “I do want the cookies, however. Have you got those little chocolate pieces in them?”

Giles set a plate in front of each child along with a glass of milk. “They do, indeed. The finest chocolate chip cookies Tara can bake.”

“Thank you, Tara,” they chorused. “Thank you, Mister Giles.” They both proceeded to chow down their cookies with gusto.

Buffy’s brow was furrowed once more as she looked up at Giles, a small mustache of cookie crumbs and milk lining her upper lip. “Mister… Did you an’ Tara get married?” she asked, grabbing his left hand and pointing to his ring finger. “You both have these,” she said, tapping the gold band shining brightly against his skin.

“Yes, dear, we did indeed marry,” he said, gently chucking the girl under the chin. “And please, call me Giles.”

“Then why did Tara call you Rupert?” Spike asked.

“Because that’s his first name, sweetie,” Tara replied. “But his friends all call him Giles, and big Buffy and Spike do, as well.”

Nodding once, Buffy said, “Well, I’m your friend, right… Giles?”

“That you are, Buffy – you and Spike, both.” He smiled warmly and then hugged each child around the shoulders. 

***

“Rupert,” Tara called her husband over. “What should we do? I mean, I know there’s nobody to call about their missing adult selves, but we’re not set up to care for them for an extended period of time. We have no clothes or shoes they can wear.”

Giles nodded in agreement. “We did give their togs to Goodwill over a year ago. Who would have expected we’d need them again?” he mused. “Not to mention who knows how long they’ll stay in this condition. Have you sensed anything magical about them? Obviously they were on their way here when it happened. I don’t understand why they would just transform in the middle of the street like that. Thank goodness their younger selves remembered where we live. Imagine… the idea of two small children out alone after dark.”

Tara shuddered. Even preternaturally strong children would be vulnerable prey on their own. “I guess we can find out what happened when they return to normal. And no, I didn’t sense anything off when I hugged them. Nothing pinging the magic meter at all.”

“Well, my love… for the moment there’s nothing to research. We can open the sofabed and make sure the curtains are completely closed and look at our little problem with new eyes in the morning.”

“We can enjoy them as long as it lasts,” Tara said, smiling at the children’s antics at the table. Buffy was dive-bombing both her glass and Spike’s with chunks of cookie, making quite the mess on the table. For his part, Spike was busy stealing bits of Buffy’s cookies and shoving them into his mouth when she wasn’t looking.

The skin around Giles’ eyes crinkled as he, too, couldn’t hold back a grin. “I – I can’t believe how much I’ve missed them,” he murmured, reaching out for Tara’s hand. “As much as Buffy’s grown into an astounding young woman, and Spike… well… has defied expectations numerous times… there is something so precious and innocent that gets lost in their older selves.”

Tara curled her arm around Giles’ waist, pulling the man closer to herself. “They really are special, aren’t they? And their auras… they complement each other so. She’s truly the Yin to his Yang.”

Giles shook his head gently, and sighed. “There are more things in Heaven and earth than are dreamt of in our philosophy,” he paraphrased the Shakespearean quote. “I didn’t have the foggiest clue we’d end up here when I first spied her youthful face that day in the school library.”

“And that you’d finally accept her choices as a grown, adult woman,” Tara added, warmly.

“Frankly, I didn’t expect her to live to adulthood,” Giles murmured. “I mean I’d hoped, but the odds were against her. And she did end up dying twice, after all.”

Tara leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “There’s no reason to worry over the past, sweetie. You need to revel in the here and now or you’ll miss all the good things in life. Oh!” she exclaimed as she felt a tug on her sweater. “Buffy, you scared me.”

The little blonde giggled. “I’m really good at being sneaky. Nobody can find me in Hide and Seek.”

“Is there something you wanted, dear?” Giles asked.

“Me and Spike are finished with our cookies, an’ we put the dishes in the sink,” Buffy answered proudly.

“And I cleaned all the crumbly bits off the table,” Spike chimed in.

“Such good little helpers!” Tara clapped her hands, making a big fuss over the children, enjoying the way their little faces lit up at the praise. “If I wash the dishes, would you both help me dry them so I can put them away?”

“I will! I will!” they both clamored as they rushed to the sink.

Tara slid a stepstool over to each child and handed them a towel. “I’ll wash, and you dry,” she said. “We’ll be finished in no time.”

She smiled as Buffy dried a small plate, and Spike was very intent on getting the last drop of water out of a glass. She was so enchanted with the little vampire that she failed to notice the gleam in Buffy’s eyes as she grabbed for the water sprayer.

Buffy squealed with childish glee as the spray caught Spike square in the face. Unfortunately, she inadvertently caught Tara in the belly before Tara could turn off the water.

“Buffy! How could you?” she cried. “Look at the mess you made. Poor Spike is drenched, and… and… “

***

“Tara, sweetheart. Wake up.” Giles’ mellifluous voice slowly got through to her drowsy brain. “Is everything all right? You were moaning in your sleep.”

“Oh, Rupert! It was a dream,” she murmured, leaning into his warm embrace. “Spike and Buffy were little again, and they were helping me wash dishes, when someone got the bright idea to use the sprayer as a water gun. I was soaked!”

“There, there, dear. You’re awake now. Perfectly dry, see?” he said as he peeled back the comforter. “Or not,” he added, eyes wide with wonder. “It would appear that your water broke.”

Tara looked down over her distended belly to find the sheets and her thighs soaked in rapidly cooling liquid.

Giles eased his wife off the bed so she could dress, and placed a call to her obstetrician. He then gathered her pre-packed maternity suitcase from the closet floor and snagged his keys from the tray on their double dresser.

“The next time we step through our front door, we’ll be parents,” he murmured, “Of our own little one.”

“It’s bound to be easier than taking care of preternaturally de-aged youngsters,” Tara answered back, before grabbing her belly with a loud ‘umph’.

“Are you all right, love?” Concerned, Giles dropped the suitcase and rushed to Tara’s side.

“I-I’m fine. I think we’d better be on our way. It feels like the little one is anxious to make its way into the world.”

“Are you glad we decided to be surprised as to the baby’s gender?”

Tara smiled, stroking her husband’s cheek gently. “One of the last, best mysteries in this world,” she answered, holding onto the bannister as they made their way down the stairs and out to the car. “You’ll call everyone from the hospital?”

“You have my word of honor,” Giles promised. “Besides, Anya and Buffy would have my guts for garters if I forgot.

With that, Mr. and Mrs. Rupert Giles left the house for the beginning of their greatest adventure yet.


	2. Old Friends

**Another year has passed for our friends.**

Tara collapsed, boneless, onto her bed, having just put Lyric down for her nap. She smiled softly, hardly believing her little girl was about to turn one year old next week! Lyric Grace Giles – the epitome of the love she shared with her husband. She remembered Rupert staring at his newborn daughter with awe, murmuring welcoming words of love. That memory still brought tears to Tara’s eyes.

It was the softness in him she loved the most – Above all, it was the depth of love and caring that came from a man she knew to have a steel-forged backbone honed in the battle against evil. That drew her to him in the depths of her despair in the aftermath of her relationship with…

What she and Rupert had… what had slowly developed between the two of them… it had surprised, no – shocked – Tara to her very core. She had always thought of herself as a lesbian; always been attracted to the softer, more feminine of the species. She’d shuddered away from the attentions of men – but perhaps that was just due to her relationships with the males in her family that had colored her perceptions.

Spending time with Rupert, watching how he dealt with little Buffy and little Spike, had shown her a whole new side of the man. She felt safe in his presence. For the first time she allowed herself to relax and enjoy his maleness. She eventually came to the conclusion that it wasn’t the packaging that attracted her to a person, but the soul – the essence – that shone through.

Bi-sexual. She never would have thought to label herself like that before. But one night when she and Rupert sat cuddled on the sofa watching some old black and white musical, she felt something break free inside her soul. She called his name, softly. When he turned, she delicately drew his face closer to hers, a kiss about to be born. He gently asked if she was sure, to which she responded by bringing that kiss fully into fruition.

Theirs became a love story of soft passions. It wasn’t the same as… well, nothing was the same as your first love, but that didn’t lessen the second. It was a mature relationship, based on complete and utter trust. There were no power plays between the two of them. Neither would ever think of forcing their desires upon the other, or claiming to know what was best.

Above all else, Tara felt safe. And loved. She had the love of her companion in life, her friends, and her family by choice. Surrounded by all this love and support, she felt free to be affectionate, to show her own feelings by nurturing others. It couldn’t get much better than this. Except…

As she adjusted herself on the bed, trying to get into a more comfortable position, she heard the crinkle of paper in her back pocket. She’d almost forgotten the letter she’d shoved there earlier, hoping to put off reading it until later.

And later was now.

She removed the envelope from her pants, and tried to smooth the wrinkles with her hands. There was no return address, but it had been sent to Ms. Tara Maclay, and she would have recognized the handwriting blindfolded.

Willow.

Who she hadn’t heard from in years.

Who didn’t know she’d married the man who had once been her mentor, or had a child. What on the Goddess’s green earth could she want with her now?

Well, unless she actually opened and read the letter, she’d never know. She slid her finger under the flap, breaking the seal and began to read.

_Dear Tara,_  
I hope this letter finds you well. I miss you.  
Tara flung the sheet of paper onto the bed, as if it burned her fingers. Her eyes burned with tears that threatened to spill. A surreptitious dash of fingers to clear her eyes, a swallow and a deep, cleansing breath, and Tara was ready to continue to read.

_Please don’t be mad at me. I’ve been seeing a psychiatrist for the past several years. As you had once suggested, it’s for me, and not in any way, shape or form to get you back. I realized the demons were mine, and if I didn’t get them under control, I could lose more than I already had._

_When I lost you, I thought I had lost everything. I had lost myself. My sense of self-worth had diminished to the point of no return, and I realized I had been striking out, trying to keep control of the situations around me. I hurt the people I loved, which was bad enough. When I went after Spike, I totally crossed the last line. I tried to commit murder._

_I was horrified that I had sunk so low, as if resurrecting Buffy hadn’t been low enough. I lost sight of the sanctity of life and the laws of Nature and Wicca._

_Trying to couch all this in terms that the average shrink wouldn’t go running from hasn’t been easy, but Dr. Metzger and I have come a long way on my journey towards a more balanced life. Like an alcoholic, I’ve been trying to make amends by at least acknowledging what I’ve done and apologizing to the best of my ability._

_I’ve also written to Xander and Anya, Buffy (and by extension, I hope, Spike). I’m still working on what to say to Giles. He was right to call me arrogant, and I totally disrespected him. I want nothing more than to make things right._

_And yes, I realize that doesn’t mean placing me back in the bosom of the group we once were. We’re all older, and I’m sure most of you have moved on from everything. It’s just… well… maybe one day we could meet up to talk. To say hello and smile._

_When I said I missed you earlier, I didn’t mean to imply that it was our relationship I missed, though of course, I do. It’s the companionship – the friendships that I destroyed. I know it’s wishful thinking, and I’ve learned to definitely **NOT** use the ‘W’ word all willy-nilly out loud, but if it’s at all possible, I’d love for us to be able to try and rekindle our friendship._

_My world is most assuredly the poorer for not having you all in it with me. But no pressure. Just putting it out there in hopes the seeds catch the winds of fate._

_Please be well, and happy. I hope you’ve found someone to share your life with. You deserve the best. Goodbye, Tara._

_Fondly,_

_Your once and hopefully future friend,_

_Willow_

There was a phone number and an address on the bottom of the page. No request to call, no demand to be part of her life… just an expressed desire should Tara choose to become involved.

She felt… lighter. Indescribably giddy. This was all she had ever wanted. For Willow to accept her wrongs and take the blame for all she’d done. She’d only wanted the best for the woman, no matter how badly their relationship had ended.

And now… well… the future held infinite possibilities. Tara wouldn’t contact Willow right away. She wanted to talk to the others about their letters, and see how they felt. If reaching out to Willow would be a group event, or one-on-one. Or not at all. Not everyone was prone to forgiveness.

She had a funny feeling, however, that Xander would be the first. They had been friends since they’d been practically toddlers, after all.

Little whimpers emanated from Lyric’s crib, and Tara craned her neck to watch her little one stretch, cat-like, as she’d begun to awaken from her nap.

She smiled softly, motherhood settling back over her shoulders like a warm mantle as she geared up for her daughter’s afternoon antics.

No matter what happened, the future promised to be… interesting.


	3. Did You Ever Think...?

A loud crack of thunder caused Buffy and Anya to look up sharply from the task at hand and turn to each other in trepidation. As time passed, and only quiet ensued, both women exhaled in relief.

“Oh thank god,” Anya exclaimed in a hoarse whisper. “They’re still asleep!”

Buffy smiled in response. “Neither rain, nor snow, nor…”

“Nor ear-shattering sound blasts from the sky,” Anya added.

“Nor ear-shattering sound blasts from the sky,” Buffy reiterated. “Shall wake the napping demons we hold dear to our hearts.”

“Awomen!” Anya affirmed and returned to folding her laundry, a wary eye lingering on her eighteen-month-old son – Jesse Stephen Harris – a sweet, rambunctious bundle of energy named after Xander’s mother (and his best friend who’d been turned and dusted); blessed with Xander’s whiskey-brown eyes and head of thick, chestnut hair, as well as Anya’s boldness. The first second-generation Scooby.

But not the last. Giles and Tara brought the next second-generation Scooby to the fold – Lyric Grace Giles, now approaching her first birthday. Talk about a surprise pairing. Buffy’d never expected the gentle witch to widen her sexual preferences to include the man she held dear to her heart as a father-figure… although, Tara wasn’t the first in their circle of friends to broaden her horizons. The baby was yet another shock. Buffy would have thought Giles had had his fill of ‘fatherhood’ from the Bitty Buffy/Spike adventures. Happily, life has a way of making fools of the plans of mankind.

And even though Spike was incapable of fathering a child of their own, that didn’t stop them from adding to the Scooby brigade part deux.

During one of their nightly patrols, they managed to dust a half-dozen or so vampires, who had, unfortunately, drained a young woman to the point of death. Before she passed away, she managed to get out only two words – “My baby”.

Sure enough, as the woman died, the sound of a crying infant rang out. Behind a towering headstone, buckled into a carrier, a baby who couldn’t have been more than a couple of months old wailed plaintively. A shared look between Buffy and Spike was all it took, and the infant became theirs.

Immediate parenthood. Not what either was expecting, but they’d been in a similar situation before with the junior Scoobies, more or less, and knew they would make the best of things. Jocelyn Anne Summers became the third of the second-generation Scoobies. Sharing her daughter’s middle name tickled Buffy pink, and Spike couldn’t have been happier to have some way to honor his mother after more than a hundred and twenty five years.

It only took a quick perusal from Anya the next day to find out that baby Jocelyn wasn’t totally human. A half-breed; human with a side of Xynth demon. Perfectly peaceful as a species, definitely passable as human, with nothing to visibly mark the baby as ‘other’. Xynths were known telepaths, and only time would tell if Jocelyn had inherited the trait. Both Slayer and Vampire thought it only fitting that their child wasn’t ordinary. 

Buffy was shaken from her reverie as an enormous flash of lightning lit up the room, followed by a clap of thunder that shook the windows. This time, they weren’t so lucky. Panicked cries from both Jesse and Jocelyn sent both mothers scurrying to gather up their little ones.

“Shh, shh, shh,” Buffy murmured into Jocelyn’s ear, the repetitive sound working to settle the seven month old against her mother’s shoulder. “It’s just thunder, Jossie. You’re safe, my sweet baby.”

Anya snuggled Jesse to her bosom, combing her fingers through his hair. “It’s okay, Jesse. Mama won’t let the thunder get you. It’s just a whole lot of noise with nothing else to do but annoy us.”

Both children quickly fell under the spell of their mothers’ calming voices, for a change. However, the chore at hand would have to be delayed; it was hard to fold laundry when both hands were otherwise occupied.

“Did you ever think…?”

Buffy looked up from nuzzling Jocelyn’s neck. “Ever think what?”

“Did you ever think you’d end up being with a vampire? And not in the drained and dead way most Slayers end up.”

Buffy couldn’t help the guffaw that exploded from her at Anya’s bluntness. “Kinda busted that trope when I was sixteen, Ahn. The real question should be ‘did I ever think I would find the _right_ vampire to settle down with?’”

“True, but you know what I mean. Being all domestic with a blood-sucking demon isn’t exactly on the curriculum vitae of most Vampire Slayers.”

This time, Anya’s bluntness brought a smile to Buffy’s lips. “As Spike is constantly reminding me,” she said, “I’m not quite like other Slayers. Never read the Handbook, died a coupla times… and yet still here – alive, kickin’ and stakin’! I think doing it my way is my strong suit.”

She stilled for a moment as Jocelyn squirmed against her neck, then continued. “Now it’s my turn. Did you ever think… you’d be happy as a human? Or have a husband and child of your own?”

“Honestly?” Anya blushed, pink staining her cheeks and the tips of her ears. “I think we should both be a little drunker for this kind of conversation. But… given that we’re in prime time children hours, I suppose that will have to wait.”

“This will have to do for now.” Buffy raised her glass of water. “To a pair of unusual moms!”

“And good friends, right?” Anya tentatively raised her own glass, and clinked it against Buffy’s. Even after all this time, her insecurities still rose up every now and then.

“Yet another good thing to come out of the new Scooby config,” Buffy confirmed, nodding her head vigorously. “Oh!” She replaced her glass on the table, shifted Jocelyn in her arms, and continued. “Tara called the other day. She said she got a letter from Willow, and that we should all probably be expecting one, as well.”

Anya made a small moue of unhappiness. “It’s to be expected, I guess. I know Xander’s happy, but every now and then he gets this faraway look in his eyes, and I know he misses her.”

“You’re not jealous of her anymore, are you?”

Anya shrugged her shoulders, dislodging Jesse’s head, momentarily. “Not really. It’s not like he lived his life in a bubble until we met and first made with the interlocking parts.”

Buffy snorted at that, glad she was no longer swallowing water. “Anyhoo… Tara said Willow was trying to make amends for her past actions. I feel bad that I haven’t really given her much thought this past few years, but my life is full, now. I’m happy. Really happy. The kind of happy I never expected I deserved.”

“As long as she doesn’t pop into our bedroom in the middle of the night, uninvited, then I guess what she has to say might be interesting.

“I daresay if she did pop in, she’d probably learn a few things.” This time it was Buffy’s turn to blush.

“Mama, mama! Down!” Jesse looked like he was up for the duration as he wriggled out of his mother’s arms. He drunken-sailor walked over to a basket of toys in the corner of the room, and plopped down happily, immediately engrossed with a stuffed kitty.

Right on cue, Jocelyn began to bop in her mother’s arms. A quick sniff to her bottom proved no poopies, so Buffy plunked her into her baby walker and laughed as her daughter made a beeline to her toys and friend. “Aand, with nary a backward glance, she deserts me!”

Anya laughed. “Well, soon enough their daddies will be home, and we’ll cease to exist entirely. I only put up with it because Xander looks so sweet when he’s nuzzling Jesse… right up to the moment he realizes Jess has a loaded diaper, and tries to hand him back to me.”

“If looks could cast vengeance, eh?” Buffy laughed again. “Spike has it easier – though he doesn’t always agree if he catches wind of Jossie first. At least he doesn’t have to actually breathe when he changes her.”

The only sounds to be heard for the next half hour or so were the happy burblings of the children, as the rest of the laundry was folded in companionable silence. By the time the door opened to reveal the menfolk, who stomped into the house spraying water droplets like two large Great Danes, the laundry was all folded and the children all clean-diapered and smelling fresh as daisies.

With kisses to their ladies, full Daddy mode was engaged.

“Who’s Daddy’s big boy?” Xander cooed at his son, tossing him gently into the air and catching him, kisses applied liberally. Jesse giggled wildly. He did love his daddy when he came home from work. Glancing ovder his shoulder, Xander said, “Thanks for giving me a hand with the lumber, Spike. Being shorthanded on delivery day sucks and you saved my ass.”

In between tickles and blown raspberries blown on Jocelyn’s belly, Spike replied, “Not a huge fan of being around all that wood, Harris – though I do prefer two-by-fours to the stakes of years gone by – but it wasn’t a problem. ‘sides, the weather made it easy to get around today, and Buffy didn’t mind.”

“Yeah, seems like she and Anya really enjoy spending time with each other. Makes life easy for us all.”

“A good friend will do that for you, Xander Harris,” Anya pouted. “And I do have friends these days. Not only Buffy. I have friends in our Mothers’ group – nothing to do with our insular little group.”

Rarely one to put his foot in his mouth anymore, Xander backtracked quickly. “I know that, sweetie. You’re a very personable person. It just fills my heart to see you and Buffy getting along so well.”

Anya’s pout lifted, replaced by a wide grin. “That’s me – a personable person.”

Not to be outdone, Spike placed Jocelyn back in her walker and headed towards his woman. “Hello, cutie,” he practically purred. “My girls have a good day?”

“Jossie is fit as a fiddle. And I’m ready for love, sir!”

Spike’s eyes crinkled with amusement, his mouth soft with the smile reserved only for his family. “Don’t tease a vamp so, luv,” he murmured. “Not with company in the house.”

“Just as well we’re leaving, Fangboy,” Xander laughed.

“There are some orgasms to be had at our place, as well,” Anya happily chirped in.

Buffy curled into Spike’s embrace and waved as her friends left the house. 

Over her shoulder, Anya called, “See you at Mother’s group, Buffy. Time to go home, feed and bathe Jesse, and get back to the interlocking.”

Buffy smiled. She had similar plans of her own for the evening.


	4. The Past, Revisited

Willow stood at the front door of 1630 Revello Drive, her heart thumping wildly, her tongue swollen and mouth dry enough to make breathing and swallowing difficult. This was a bad idea. She wasn’t ready. What if they hated her? It’s not like she hadn’t given them all cause. Or what if, instead… they didn’t care? That would be worse, wouldn’t it? Maybe she wasn’t worthy of their forgiveness?

Enough! She shook her head, trying to clear her demons. Tara had texted her back, and together they had arranged this meeting. Everyone had agreed to be there, which had to mean something, right?

Willow took a deep, cleansing breath, raised her hand and pressed the doorbell. Despite of the hundreds of times she’d crossed this threshold in the past, the awkwardness of the moment had her in a stranglehold.

The door opened, and she was treated to the smiling face of her oldest friend. No words were spoken, but Xander’s rib-crushing hug spoke volumes. He didn’t hate her!

“Oh, Xander!” she murmured into his neck. “It’s so good to see you again.”

“Looking pretty good, yourself, Wills.” He stepped back from the door, and waited, smiling broadly when she entered the house without a spoken invitation.

Willow understood, completely. There was no sense taking chances. It had been a couple of years since they’d last been together, and Xander was just exhibiting sensible Sunnydale precautions.

She followed Xander into the living room and surveyed her surroundings. Spike was sprawled out on the sofa, with Buffy cuddled against his side. Anya sat in the loveseat, obviously waiting for her… husband! Willow had surreptitiously checked Xander’s hand, and sure enough, found the gold wedding ring. Giles sat in the wing-backed chair and Tara… Tara sat next to him on a soft, comfy-looking recliner.

Peeling himself from Willow’s side, Xander sat down next to his wife, murmuring soft words into her ear. Anya’s tension seemed to ease a bit, and she relaxed against him.

Oh, Goddess! All Willow’s carefully prepared words deserted her. She wanted to turn around and bolt out of the house before the flop sweat dripped from her clothing.

Buffy obviously decided to take pity on her. She stood, as regally as a short woman could, and said, “Welcome to my home, Willow. It’s been a long time.” She opened her arms, and enveloped Willow in her arms. “Come sit, please? This isn’t an inquisition, or even an intervention. We just want to hear what you have to say.”

Breathing a sigh of relief – temporary as she knew it would be – Willow sat, facing a semi-circle of people she hadn’t seen in almost three years.

“Y-you look g-good, Willow,” Tara said. Obviously thrown by the prominence of her stutter, she added, “I like the auburn.”

“T-thanks, Tara,” Willow couldn’t help her own stammer. “My psychiatrist suggested I make some changes, and even though it’s a superficial difference, it’s a start.”

Giles cleared his throat. “I’m delighted to hear that you’ve reached out for psychiatric help, Willow,” he began, uncomfortably. “Have you done the same with your magicks?”

Willow’s cheeks pinked, and she stared down at the floor for a moment before answering. “You might have heard that I took your advice and contacted the Devon coven. I told them I wouldn’t mind if they passed on the information.”

He nodded slightly, apparently waiting for her to continue.

“I-I’ve spent the past two summers in Devon. Going back to the basics was very hard for me,” she admitted, still unable to look the man in the eye. “But, between the coven and my therapy sessions, I was finally able to acknowledge some truths.”

At that admission, she finally began to look around the room, addressing the people she used to call family. “I understand now that I am not – nor have I ever been – the center of the world, either the mundane or the magickal. I get it, I do.”

She made herself face Giles. “You were right, all those years ago, to call me arrogant. It’s one of my worst traits, and I have to work on it continually. And you _have_ to believe that I’m sorry for what I said or did…” Willow shook her head and stopped herself, changing tack.

“NO, I mean please, please believe I am sorry. I get that I can’t enforce my desires on you or anyone else. And more importantly… I shouldn’t even try. Everyone has the right to their own thoughts and choices.”

“Buffy,” she said, turning towards her erstwhile best friend. I’m so, so sorry that I always thought I knew what was best for you and imposed my will over yours. And Spike,” she continued, turning to face the vampire she’d almost murdered. “I know it’s none of my business who Buffy decides to take as a friend. Or boyfriend.” Willow knew she was babbling, but couldn’t stop herself. This had all been coming for such a long time, and now it was bursting out of her. “Not my business whatever kind of relationship Buffy wants with whomever she –”

“S’okay, Red,” Spike’s soothing baritone cut through Willow’s word vomit. “Not a soul amongst us who hasn’t fucked up a time or twenty. It’s how we move forward that counts. A lesson hard learned… for me, as well.”

Willow picked up on a hushed conversation between Anya and Xander, She knew them well enough to recognize Anya wanted Xander to say something. Sure enough, Xander, with a slightly sheepish expression on his face, raised his hand as if asking for permission to speak, and then forged on without waiting.

“I’m sure by now you’ve noticed the wedding bands. Anya and I just celebrated our first anniversary and –”

The sound of a baby crying drifted down the stairs. After excusing himself, Xander bounded up the staircase and came back down holding a little boy. “Allow me to introduce our little bundle of joy, Master Jesse Stephen Harris.”

“Do you want to hold him?” Anya asked, smiling with pride as her youngster rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

Willow held out her arms timidly. “You don’t mind?”

“Here ya go, Jesse.” Xander handed over the baby. “Say hello to your Auntie Willow.”

Willow felt tears prickle in her eyes. “Hey there, little fella,” she cooed. “So handsome. Looks like you’ve got your daddy’s eyes and head of hair, and your mommy’s smile.”

Jesse patted her face with both hands, and then gave her a wet, open-mouthed kiss on her nose.

Anya rose from the loveseat and held out her arms to her son. “It’s good to see you again, Willow. You’re much nicer when you’re not trying to run everyone’s lives.”

Nobody disagreed with her, or called her on her bluntness. It seemed, Willow mused, that she wasn’t the only one who’d changed.

“W-willow, there’s something we need to tell you,” Tara said cautiously. “Rupert and I… well… you know I went to stay with him after we broke up. And our whole dynamic changed after spending so much time together, and…”

“Oh, bloody hell, Glinda,” Spike exhorted from the sofa. “Nothing to be gained from pulling off the bandage slowly. Listen Red, what the bird is trying to say is that she and Rupert fell in love and got married. And the git and ex-demon over there aren’t the only new parents present.”

Willow’s mouth gaped open like a fish. “Wha… what do you mean?”

“You’re not the only bird to change her orientation to suit her heart, Red. Tara and old Rupes, here, are quite the love match. They have a daughter who’s ‘bout a year old now.”

“Lyric Grace,” Tara said, glowing with motherly pride. “She’s upstairs sleeping and she’s just… well, she’s perfect.”

“She is,” Giles agreed, grinning. “And we’d like you to meet her.”

Lingering shock at the huge changes in her friends’ lives was the only thing preventing Willow’s tears from falling now. Shock that only grew when Buffy said, “So, there’s more telling-of-life-altering-changes to be told.”

“Saved the best for last,” was Spike’s addition to the conversation, sliding his fingers through Buffy’s long, blonde tresses.

“Spike and I are also parents,” Buffy continued. “Not quite in the same way as everyone else, of course, what with the whole Vampire thing – but parents. Of seven month old Jocelyn Anne Summers-Pratt. Her mama was killed by a bunch of vampires before we could get to her, and the baby was left all alone.”

“Jossie is part demon,” Spike interrupted, obviously wanting his say in their narrative. “an’ thanks to Clem’s connections in the demon community, we found out that she was orphaned. No claims on her at all. Clem’s mates came up with the proper paperwork, so in both the non-supernatural and demons worlds, we’re legally her parents. Nobody to challenge our right to raise the bitlet,” he declared, looking directly at Willow as he spoke.

Willow was overwhelmed, to say the least. She knew she needed time to digest all of this, just as she knew she had been challenged outright to air her opinions on the way everyone’s lives had changed.

For the moment, however, she just smiled and kept her thoughts to herself… mainly ‘cause she didn’t even know what her thoughts were. But they were happy. That was undeniable. They were all happy.

She excused herself soon after, not wanting to overstay her tentative welcome on the first of what she hoped would be many visits. The hardest part was over – the proverbial ice had been broken – and the world still spun on its axis. And it would continue to do so, Willow vowed, with absolutely no interference from her.


	5. Just Coffee

“It’s just coffee, it’s just coffee,” Willow mumbled under her breath as she sat nervously, at the Espresso Pump’s counter. Two weeks after the ‘intervention that wasn’t,’ Tara had called, unexpectedly. “Just coffee,” she’d said. The words echoed in Willow’s mind, sounding louder with each repetition.

But Willow knew in her heart that it wasn’t going to be ‘just coffee’. It couldn’t be. After the group get-together – which had been peaceable, if uncomfortable – this meeting had her shaking hard enough to set her water glass to vibrating – like in Jurassic Park when the Tyrannosaurus was approaching.

Not that Tara was anything like a lumbering dinosaur; it was simply that, even after all this time, Tara held a huge part of Willow’s heart. _Love is not love. Which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove._ And there really wasn’t anything she could – should – do about it. Time alone would dictate how her heart would heal.

A sage green skirt caught her peripheral vision, and Willow looked up, sharply. Sure enough, there was Tara, wearing a beautiful gauze peasant blouse embroidered around the neckline with multi-colored flowers and leaves. Her hair was held back in a loose pony, with long tendrils curling gently around her ears.

Willow’s heart leapt into her throat as the intensity of her feelings nearly knocked her from her seat. “Tara,” she gasped, unable to hold back.

“Hi, Willow,” her ex-love said with a smile that nearly broke Willow’s heart. “I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t bring Lyric with me. Rupert is enjoying a little father-daughter time, and I thought it would be easier if we weren’t distracted by her antics.”

She nodded, dumbly, knowing that the very presence of the little girl would only have served to rub salt into the wound that was Tara moving on – to a man; _that man_ no less – and leaving her behind.

“Are you okay?” Tara asked, looking at her with concern. “You look a bit peaked.”

“I’m fine, Tara, really,” she replied. “Just having a little trouble dealing with things.”

“Things like my husband, Rupert, and our daughter – a physical representation of our physical union,” Tara nodded sagely, obviously gauging the effect her words were having on her ex.

Hanging her head in shame, Willow nodded. Obviously Tara could read her like an open book. She swiped at her eyes before gathering what little courage she had to look at her directly. “I really thought it would be easier with just the two of us,” she began. “But it seems to be worse. I feel… I still…”

Tara took pity on her and chimed in. “You still have feelings for me. You still love me. Is that it?”

Willow couldn’t believe she’d said the words out loud, and searched Tara’s face for any signs of derision or disgust. All she found was compassion. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I can’t help it. I never stopped loving you.”

“Oh, Willow. I love you, too,” Tara exclaimed, reaching out to cover her hand on the table. “It was never lack of love that drove us apart. It was always a trust issue. It’s just… yes, I do love you, but I’m not _in love_ with you any longer. Once you broke trust, and then broke it again and again, there was no hope – at least in my mind – for us to continue as a couple.”

Choking back a sob, Willow struggled to gather her composure. They were in a public place, after all, and she didn’t want to air all her dirty laundry to all and sundry. But then, without warning, she felt the warmth and strength of Tara’s embrace and the dam burst. Public be damned. Her tears fell, the sobs ripped from her throat, and Tara’s hold remained steadfast.

When they finally separated, there was nothing but warmth and understanding in Tara’s eyes. “It’s okay, Willow,” she said softly. “You’ve been holding that all in for a long time now, haven’t you?”

Willow nodded, hiccoughing softly in the wake of her emotional outburst. “So what do I do?” she asked, pitifully. “It hurts so much.”

“You should be talking this out with your psychiatrist. But I do know it’s painful,” Tara admitted. “Do you think it was easy for me when I walked out? But that’s the thing with human emotions. We feel them. We live with them long enough for our hearts to heal little by little, until we can get through a day without the worst of the pain.

“It’s where you failed before,” Tara continued. “You didn’t want to feel the heartbreak of a broken relationship, so you tried to change things with magicks. Regardless of what other people wanted, you thought you had the moral high ground to enforce your will on everyone else.”

“I haven’t done anything since you left me,” Willow insisted. “I swear I didn’t… and I won’t! Never again!”

Tara smiled as she put her hands on Willow’s shoulder, looking her directly in the eyes. “And that’s progress. It’s the road you need to continue down. I’m proud of you, Willow. I know it’s not an easy thing; letting go of your need to control everything around you. But you know that’s what destroyed your relationships in the past.”

Willow nodded. “You’re right. I know it was all my fault, and again, I’m so sorry for all the pain I caused in trying to get my way.”

“One day, Willow,” Tara said reassuringly, “I’m sure you’ll meet someone who will make you happy just for being themself,” Tara continued. “Maybe soon – maybe later… but it’s the natural course of things if you put yourself out there to be seen. What are you doing these days?”

Willow shook her head to clear her thoughts. She was utterly amazed by this new version of Tara sitting beside her. Tara had never, ever been this verbose. And she had to admit it was nice seeing her out from under the Scoobies’ shadow. Or at least _her_ version of the Scoobies.

Pulling herself back to Tara’s question, she said, “I’ve gone back to college. Even as screwed up as I was, I hated the fact that I had left my education blowing unfinished in the wind. And my mother actually settle on a course selection. She actually tried to comfort me over our breakup. She didn’t do it well, of course, but at least she showed me she cared. It had been a long time since she bothered, if you remember.”

Tara simply nodded and smiled, encouraging her to open up.

“I had signed up for an Art History lecture class, b-but I had to drop it,” Willow sighed. “There was no pleasure in it without you.” Before Tara could object, she continued. “I know, I know… I shouldn’t be blaming you for not being there… that’s not it, at all. I just realized that half the pleasure of that class was talking about things with you – and with that gone, I could barely be bothered to attend class.

“I needed to find something of my own to enjoy… and I did – I got back into computers. Programming and tech support – troubleshooting. I’m good at it. I was before we met so there were no ghosts to try and avoid. Dr. Metzger said it was a much healthier choice for me, and I agree.”

“That’s good,” Tara acknowledged. “Dr. Metzger sounds like she’s good for you, Willow. And that makes me happy. It’s all I’ve ever wanted for you, you know. Happiness and inner peace.”

Willow smiled – a little half-wobbly affair of a smile – but heartfelt, nevertheless. “Me, too,” she said softly. “N-not for me to be happy, but for you. To be too.”

“I _am_ happy, Willow. Content with my life as it is. And my most fervent hope is that you will find your other half, if you want. And the peace that comes with doing the best you can, and letting others, as well.”

Just then, an alarm sounded from Willow’s watch. “Oh my Goddess,” she exclaimed. “I didn’t realize how late it is. I scheduled an appointment with Dr. Metzger, to help me work things through after we’d met, and I don’t want to be late.” She stood and asked, meekly, almost afraid of Tara’s reply. “Will we meet again?”

“I don’t see why not,” Tara replied, much to Willow’s jubilation. “Maybe next time, we can meet in the park, and I can let Lyric get to know her Auntie Willow.”

This time Willow’s smile was blindingly bright, and her heart thumped loudly. For a change, it wasn’t in that old ‘you are my everything’ way it used to beat, but in a new ‘she still wants me in her life’ way.

This, she could live with.


End file.
